Bumblebee gunned it in Cade's direction.
A few other Transformers followed close behind.
Only the girl and the blue beetle-like bot were left blinking at the sudden commotion.
"Do you want to go check it out? I can take you," her BOYFRIEND said, sensing her thoughts as he patted his big metal head.
"Okay! Let's catch up with them!"
Vrrm—
The girl climbed onto BOYFRIEND's shoulder, and with the blue beetle-bot in tow, they fell in with the pursuing convoy.
On the highway, Cade could only glimpse Saitama far ahead, the figure in the red cape steadily pulling away.
Even at 120 miles per hour, he could keep pace but not close the gap.
"Damn—he's not even human, is he?" Cade smacked the steering wheel and stomped the gas.
Saitama, noticing Cade gaining little by little, let a faint smile curl his lips. Cade had come. Good.
But he doubted Cade could truly keep up.
Saitama quickened, leaning into the desert gale and surging forward.
Sand grains stung his face—and only excited him more.
He was speeding up.
That was when he sensed them: mechanical scorpions skittering under the dunes.
He stepped in and pinched one up by the tail.
As he looked into its eyes, a lens whirred to life—an embedded monitor was filming their route and broadcasting it onward.
So that's why no one had attacked—this stretch was already under remote surveillance.
Couple that with the fact that no civilians had escaped City No. 1, and one conclusion followed: these scorpions weren't just watchers.
They were weapons.
The scorpion in his hand suddenly stabbed at him—its tail like a natural sting, only harder and deadlier than any creature's.
Saitama crushed the scorpion and dropped it, wiping the shallow line of blood the tail had scratched across his cheek.
On a ridge of sand, a heavy, muffled voice chuckled. "As expected… the one Lord Megatron marked for special attention."
Boom—
A robot faded out of the sand-wall's shimmer and leapt down.
"I am Octopus, Hermit Warrior under Lord Megatron. Pleased to meet you."
"So this is the projection tech in Transformers 5—Cybertronian holo-imaging," Saitama thought as the newcomer's outline resolved from mirage into metal. If he could do that here, then this desert was his home field—his 'domain.'
This one wouldn't be like the clowns Saitama had swatted aside before.
There was no comic curl to the mouth—only cruelty.
Elsewhere, Cade and the others saw Octopus appear and felt their stomachs drop. Cade's car unfolded into his closest partner—Bumblebee.
Man and machine fixed their eyes on a duel: one human, one mech, neither yielding an inch.
"Should we… help them, Cade?" Bumblebee asked, tense. Somewhere along the line, man and machine had slid from coexistence into full-blown tribal hostility—and he didn't want to see anyone hurt.
"Maybe… we wait—"
Before Cade could finish, Saitama slid a sharp elbow left—and his other foot snapped into the stone at the side.
With each motion, Octopus's desert-phantom ambushes were intercepted, unraveled, shut down.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack—
Eight exchanges flared across the dunes in a heartbeat, afterimages stitching and unspooling.
Cade and Bumblebee stared, more stunned with every breath.
A human, going blow-for-blow with a Transformer at this level!
Was this really the limit of humanity?
The red swordsman and the camo-plated heavy trooper arrived next, skidding to a halt.
"My God—is that guy a super-robot wearing human skin?"
They were joking, of course. Andrew and the soldiers knew better. Saitama was flesh and blood—not some cybernetic trick.
"Damn it—boss is brawling with the Decepticons again, and we can't even help!" Andrew lined his people up with Cade's crew, forming a human-mech skirmish line.
Above the sand, Saitama and the Hermit Warrior tore into each other harder and faster—
bouncing off anything they could leverage to hurl themselves back in.
Every clash kicked up a new squall; the air turned to grit and blur.
Cuts striped Saitama's skin.
Dents like fist-prints pocked Octopus's frame.
"Hrrk… hrrk…" the Hermit Warrior's generator crackled under the barrage. "Unbelievable. A human—this strong?"
Saitama wiped his mouth and said nothing—then drove another heavy strike straight in.
For invaders who bullied the weak, there was no sermon, no guilt, no plea that mattered. Only a fist that pressed life and death to a single instant could teach them fear.
He faced Octopus. "Sorry. I was just warming up. Now I'm getting serious."
"Hahaha!" Octopus barked at Saitama's solemn look. "If that's you 'serious,' I'll still toy with you! Like you humans say—cat and mouse. And I'm the desert cat—"
Thud—
He didn't finish.
A fist-shadow filled his vision, and a man-shape punched through his chassis like a red comet.
Boom!
The desert howled.
In the blast of sand, a red-caped silhouette stood alone.
(End of Chapter)
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